A Frigid Reception
by Blackfire 18
Summary: Hans' older brothers drag their youngest sibling back to Arendelle to formally apologize, shackled and chained in the castle dungeons, to Queen Elsa. Trouble is, Hans is wholly unrepentant. How will the queen punish him? Can Hans twist the truth in his favor? Is there more to this criminal than meets the eye? [Post Frozen]
1. A Frigid Reception

**A Frigid Reception**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen or any of the characters there within (excepting Prince Ragnvald and Prince Walder who are of my own design), they are property of the Walt Disney Corporation.**

Hans frowned as the second cuff clamped around his wrist and dragged his arm down. The weight of the chill iron manacles and their chains pulled his shoulders down, forcing his chest to cave on itself.

Prince Ragnvald clapped his white-gloved hands together and straightened, his long auburn braid slipping over his back as he moved to stand beside his shorter, but solidly built younger brother Prince Walder.

"Excellent craftsmanship," Ragnvald tugged the hem of his gray jacket back into place so that his many military honors flashed and jangled together. He and moved to stand beside his brown-haired sibling dressed in similar regiment attire. Ragnvald, the third in line of their immense family, occupied the commanding office of their royal militia and Walder, the eighth in line, served as an admiral among the naval branch. Hans himself had captained the fastest vessel in their fleet.

The ship they sailed into Arendelle's port was his. Or so it was.

"An odd place to invest one's riches—in the dungeons, ha!" Walder kicked the toe of one polished boot into the stone wall. "It makes you wonder what sort of demons Arendelle must keep under lock and key."

"Their own queen."

The princes looked at their youngest brother; the smiles gone from their faces.

They had all heard the story.

Winter in July, was the name of the event whispered around the countries surrounding Arendelle. How the newly christened queen had cursed her land in a demonstration of power only to lift the snows and restore summer with the snap of her fingers. Some of the rumors were nearer the truth and favored Elsa with forgiveness for an inadvertent, unnatural freeze. But near every kingdom, estate, manor only grasped the icy teeth of a monarch unchecked. The other nations shuddered to think how anyone might engage the queen should she chose to expand her influence.

This was why Hans could meet the stern looks from his older brothers with a smile.

Ragnvald and Walder. The beanpole and the winter squash.

Two of the three brothers who once pretended he didn't exist for years and once they did it was only to remind him of his inferior swordsmanship or to cuff his temple for some untoward remark.

"Remember why you're here, Hans," Ragnvald's burning eyebrows firmed the permanent line creased between them.

"Do you remember why you're here?" Hans said at once. "Harald and Eric are too important and you're not important enough?"

"No, you're not important. To anyone." Ragnvald snugged the glove of one hand as if bored with the conversation. Hans hated him for it. "That's why they always saddled me with you. From your bottles and buttons to my swords and ships. Now here we stand at last at your invariable execution."

Hans snorted.

"Most likely all our executions. The queen expressly decreed I was banished from these lands and you've brought me back here _against her wishes_. You'll hang just as soon as I will."

"Shut up, Hans, you don't anything about diplomacy," Walder spat so flecks of his saliva struck Hans' face.

"And you still don't know how to speak without spittle."

Hans flinched when Walder's fist shot into the air. His older brother chuckled.

"That's what I thought. Wouldn't dare bloody up my knuckles before meeting the queen."

"You wouldn't dare if I had my sword," Hans said and did not duck in time.

The right hook connected with Hans' jaw and sent him sprawling on the stone floor. Ragnvald shouted and jumped between his younger brothers. He steered the brunette toward the door while Hans shook his head to clear it. The square of dying sunlight from the narrow window made the metal glint into his eyes.

"Enough, Walder, for pity's sake control that temper. Hans, you hold your tongue until I say otherwise," Ragnvald made no move to help the youngest off the floor.

"Yes, sir," Hans jeered and levered from his shoulder to his knees to stand. His stinging jaw aggravating the dormant but present pain in the bridge of his nose. The three brothers glared at each other in the mental crossfire when the grate of a sliding beam drew all their eyes to the door.  
All three straightened; Hans hindered by his shackles.

A man opened the door and stepped lightly inside.

"Queen Elsa," he said and bowed as Arendelle's queen stepped into view.

She was more beautiful than Hans remembered.

Her slimming royal skirts had taken on a brighter if muted blue offset by the black of her long sleeves, her bodice now embroidered individually crafted snowflakes. Her long platinum hair spilled in a tight braid over one shoulder and her crown glittered above her brow. He heard her heels click softly into the quiet. Her eyes skipped quickly over the scene and found Hans at the back of the cell, unyielding as his brothers bowed to her. Their eyes met. Did he imagine that puff of cold air striking his face?

"Your Majesty," his brothers said in unison and she dipped a slow, elegant curtsy in observance.

"I apologize, lords, for receiving you like this, but this man's crimes in Arendelle are punishable by death and this is how our banished are detained."

"We understand, Your Highness," Walder cleared the tightness in his throat with a cough.

"We ask you meter any justice you see fit on our brother in hopes that his egregious error of judgment," Ragnvald's eyes flickered toward him, "does not reflect poorly on the remainder of our stock in the Southern Isles."

"Any punishment you deem worthy, we condone," Walder quickly agreed.

The young queen's gaze swept over Hans and he was transported to the celebration following the coronation. How she had looked at him them; the cool, distant set of her ice blue eyes—how the subdued warmth of her smile did not quite reach them when he bowed before her. He had heard the stories of her reserved nature, her sequestration from her own court, and he had thought to win her over despite these peculiarities. But nothing had quite prepared him for her reception.

He had offered one hand to kiss the back of hers and she had only inclined her head to him, a soft word of withdrawn gratitude on her lips. Her gloved hands unmoving from their clasp before her skirts. This barrier she set between them, this impenetrable wall he had had every intention of scaling, bore no helpful foothold. No friendly fissure. No crack, no cleft, no chink for him to maneuver into her heart.

And it broke his.

Every moonlit stroll along the fjord, every horseback race through sun-spangled woods, every garden tea in full glorious bloom shattered around him in those cool, iced blue eyes.

"_It is a pleasure, Prince Hans." _

"_The honor is all mine."_

Those eyes pinned him now with a hardness more fierce than the wall he had encountered. He stood in the unblinking beam of her gaze gored by spikes.

"Hans!"

Hans wrenched free of his freeze and turned to Ragnvald, who pinned him with an ugly stare.

"The queen has asked for your apology." He said.

Hans looked back at her, at all three of them, waiting stiff and unhappy. Ragnvald with that permanent twist of distaste in the corner of his lips. Walder with his fisted hands hidden behind his crossed arms, itching to strike anything that opposed him.

Elsa.

Hans slid to his knees, the heavy chains singing a waterfall clash as they struck the floor. He clasped his hands before him and bowed his head.

"Queen Elsa, I apologize wholeheartedly to you, your sister Princess Anna, the royal court, and the nation of Arendelle for the wrongs I have done you." He paused for effect. "I humbly beg your forgiveness."

The silence drew out longer than it should have and Hans glanced up. Elsa stood watching him with a rigid stance and cold eyes. She stared so long, even Hans' brothers shifted and exchanged glances with one another.

"Prince Walder, Prince Ragnvald, I wonder if I might have a word with your brother, alone?"

The pair exchanged glances one more time, sniffed, and nodded their consent. Happy to wash their hands of the circumstances, leave Hans to his fate, and vacate the cooling cell to return to his, their, ship and await the queen's call.

Neither said farewell.

The dungeon door whined shut behind them.

The prince and queen studied each other in the silence, both waiting to see how the other would proceed.

Hans hated to admit it, but the young queen truly was a transcendental beauty. Oh, how he had wanted her to be his.

Hans remained on his knees as Elsa advanced and he saw it. The slant of her shoulders, the sway of her hips, the length of her stride. Cracks. Rifts. Nearly imperceptible but he had studied people too long and too hard to be fooled by the façade the queen once paraded in. A detached man had no roots to sever, no weaknesses to exploit. The queen was once well kept in her reticence, but now, now there was confidence, grounding. There was something at stake.

She stopped at the peak of the square of light, looking down on him.

"An insincere apology will win you no favors here, Hans. I will not ask again."

He met her imperial stare with a lopsided smile.

"I see you've found your diadem, Queen Elsa. I understand it took your court staff two weeks to find it on the North Mountain."

To her credit, Elsa turned pink.

"Why are you here?" She demanded. "You hardly seem as repentant as your brothers let on."

"But I am sorry," Hans said with an equal, dangerous softness as he carefully rose to his feet, chains rankling in their slide aloft, "sorry I hadn't struck sooner. Sorry Anna hadn't tripped on her way to you. Sorry that I came so close to wearing that crown."

Elsa met his gaze, forced to look up at him but he was pleased when she did not retreat a single step.

"Only princes wear crowns."

"Only kings rule kingdoms."

They stood opposite each other, two pillars firmly set in their own foundations, neither bending to the will of the other. It was a new sort of coldness in this transformed Elsa. A steadfast determination born of righteousness hard and sharp as ice. He saw a conviction and self-assuredness that had not been there at her crowning, at the celebration of her coronation. A spark of respect tempered with the embers of an ardor he believed doused warmed Hans even as a seeping cold filled the compact dungeon cell.

And he found his opening in her perfect shield.

"You are utterly despicable. A prince without a shred of honor to his family's name or his own. I should freeze your heart, but how can I when you don't have one?"

Hans chuckled, the chains rattling along with him.

"No, my queen, you don't have the heart." He said, ploughing forward at her silence. "I don't think you understand how widespread your little winter tirade has gotten. Citizens in neighboring countries saw that deep freeze, some suffered it, but everyone is talking about it. Stories pass from mouth to mouth, each retelling a little more wrong than the last. I've even heard a few where Anna was trying to kill you for your crown. Very few recitals hold you as the heroine. Do you think it's wrong of them to be fearful?"

"I'm in complete control of my power." Elsa's hands balled into fists at her sides.

"Arendelle's fjord was not the only one frozen. Ports were cut off all along the coast. Crops died. Livestock died. People who couldn't find their way home in the storm are still being found in woods to the north. What you meant and what you've done are one in the same to them. You're a witch. A monster."

"I am not a threat to anyone's welfare." The stone floor soon crinkled with a thin layer of frost. Hans kept peeling back the layers.

"You told me once that you were a danger to Arendelle. You still are."

"I'm only a danger to you, Hans," Elsa thrust one hand at her feet where a cluster of ice crystals appeared.

"And Anna." Hans struggled to keep his growing smile in check as he saw her striking eyes widen. "You wonder what would have happened if she'd stayed frozen that day. You sometimes worry you'll lose control again."

"No." Elsa gripped her elbows in both hands over her stomach.

"You still have nightmares about freezing her heart and in those long, sleepless nights, you sneak to her room and crawl into her bed—crying and trembling, beyond words to see if she's still warm."

"No!" Ice splintered across the floor.

"Because every night you dream about that accident again and again. And every night poor Anna becomes nothing more than an empty ice sculpture tipping over and shattering to pieces."

Cold stabbed both of Hans' feet like swords driven down through his arches. He gasped as he careened backward, crashing awkwardly against the wall as his ice caked feet remained stuck in place. A freezing hand clutched his throat as another pressed over his heart, nails gripping painfully at his lapel.

He hammered the tiny splinter in her blasé pretense wide open.

Elsa breathed hard over him, her lovely face twisted into something ugly, depraved, a mad glint in her eyes. The hand over his throat hurt as it choked him—as if her palms were made of knives. Hans' rapid breath clouded the air, stirring the loose bangs around the queen's face. A warm liquid spilled down his throat as if he'd drunk a steaming mug of spiced mead too quickly.

He could see his own wide eyes reflected in hers; exchanging surprise for surprise.

The queen thrust backward allowing Hans to slump to the floor, chains clanging as he touched his throat. His fingers came away red. He looked across the way at a hunched Queen Elsa, both watching his blood dripping from her left hand to stain the snow at her feet.

She looked at him. A deer caught in a ring of hunters. The same royal doe he had seen fleeing her court for the anonymous wilds.

A rumbling in his throat surprised them both.

"Complete control." He laughed. "Who's the real monster here, Elsa? I may have been the first to try taking your kingdom, but I won't be the last."

Elsa stared at him, brow knit, her mouth open but no sharp reprimand tumbled from her lips.

An urgent knock sounded at the door and the man who saw the queen into the cell said,

"Queen Elsa! The dock is empty. The princes from the Southern Isles have gone!"

* * *

**Author's Note: Uhh...Happy Valentine's Day? I made you feel bad for Hans, didn't I? ...I didn't? Then I point a finger at the Frozen fandom for making me sympathize with his character. Show of hands, who else was surprised when Hans turned out to be a bad guy? I'm usually on top of these things and even WHILE I was watching Anna race back to get her kiss from Hans, I was thinking "No, no, she has to save Elsa somehow. How is this going to work if she kisses Hans?" So yeah, I got tricked. But I love that I got tricked into that old Prince Charming trope turned on its head. And I guess somewhere deep down I wanted Hans to be sincere to start, but his ambitions got in the way of nobility. Yeah, what he did was a dick move and I agree, but there's a bit more to him than that. I think if Hans secured his kingdom, he would have made a decent king-his care for Arendelle's citizens during the freeze illustrates this. I think he might have really loved Elsa if she had let him in, so to speak. And she just destroyed him when he realized he couldn't have her. Or his kingdom.**

**That said, this story is quickly snowballing into something huge. Which makes me quail considering how much work I already have on my plate. Oog. But hey, if you guys want more, drop me a shout out. I'm listening!**

**And holy crud, first I post that super sad 'Cold Hands' Frozen fanfic ON Christmas day, and now I've got this dark, angsty piece for Valentine's Day. What's my PROblem!?**

**Blackfire 18**


	2. Holdover

**A Frigid Reception**

**CHAPTER 2: Holdover**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen or any of the characters there within (excepting Prince Ragnvald and Prince Walder who are of my own design), they are property of the Walt Disney Corporation.**

Elsa sat on the hard wood of her throne, her chin in one hand and the fingers of the other drumming on the armrest.

Two weeks.

It had been two weeks since the runner delivered that harried, rehashed message from the princes of the Southern Isles expressing their immediate and unexpected departure as a matter of national urgency. An urgency which was not clearly defined outside of a '_family matter_,' is what the breathless runner said. There had been a second foreign ship in the fjord—a ship that had not even docked. Witnesses said this vessel approached the Vestige, turned in the water, and the Southern Isles' princes issued their informal message and extended their sincerest apologies for the abrupt sail. Both ships departed at once. They made no mention of their brother.

Two weeks she had kept the criminal fed and sheltered on her order.

Two weeks since their last exchange.

"Your Majesty?"

Elsa blinked the glaze from her eyes.

"Yes," she straightened, "you and this other woodcutter were in dispute over which plot of land?"

The woodcutter before her glanced to one side, mouth open, fidgeting with the brim of his hat. He had in fact moved well past his opening remarks to lodge his complaint with the queen and he stood silent. Elsa realized she had missed the entire grievance and her eyes flickered to the hall behind the man where a lineup of shifting Arendelle citizens waited, each peering over their neighbor's shoulder to peek into the throne room. She shut her eyes a moment and rose from the throne, folding her hands before her.

"Citizens of Arendelle, I'm afraid I must close the forum today as I have pressing matters of state to attend," an audible groan went up in the hall. "Please see one of the royal handlers at the doors to receive a token and hold your place for the following assembly. I apologize for the inconvenience."

Elsa stepped down from the throne to the grumbles of her subjects, some of whom had waited hours before she even set foot in the chamber to speak with her. They shuffled en masse down the hallways to the front doors as she strode for the archway that led to the winged staircase, the second landing, and her quarters in the northern wing. She hesitated at the door to her bureau. Unsigned proposals for harbor repair and upkeep, unopened letters from dignitaries mixed with half-read invitations to fetes, incomplete boundary jurisdiction reform, and unfiled taxes and lay strewn about her great oak desk. The work seemed to pile higher every passing day.

With a sigh, Elsa moved past the office and continued on to her chambers.

She paused only a moment before she gently shut the door and shed her cloak, set her crown on the pillow on the counter, and slipped out of her shoes. She crossed the room to her balcony and stood before the high windows, watching the throngs disperse from the castle below. A frown creased the corner of her mouth. She could see the frustration in the long strides, the gesticulating arms of her subjects and she did not blame them for their ire.

Two weeks and it seemed the entire kingdom had ground to a halt.

She could still see his face.

That look of bitter acceptance mocked by a rueful smile at the announcement of the princes' departure. He slumped against the wall, feet still locked in ice, as he eyed the queen at the opposite end of his cell.

_They're not coming back._

She had frowned at him then hearing the sour color to his tone. It was perhaps the most truthful thing he had said since his detainment. He slouched, his elbows resting on his knees and head bowed to stew on his thoughts. She had refused to feel sorry for him as the heavy door swung shut behind her. She refused to pity him as his smug expression and stinging words followed her for days, derailing her train of thought and watering seeds of a fear she thought she had let go of.

While her kingdom may have accepted her dominion over ice and snow, the greater world might not.

_If they do return, it won't be for me. _

Elsa's blue eyes traveled from the citizens to the dock and sun-spangled fjord waters beyond. A frigate edged its way toward them on the horizon weighed in the waters by the stock she would trade. All the world was within sailing distance of Arendelle. An armada would fit just as neatly as a column of trading vessels.

A soft, familiar knock sounded at her door.

"Enter."

Bjolan, a royal handler who had served her family loyally for decades, stepped lightly into her quarters and shut the door behind him. He was a professional man. Discreet and unassuming, he knew every in and out of the castle from hidden closets to support beams. He had been the last to see the king and queen off and he had become something of her confident in the years between her parents passing and her crowning. He was the only member of the royal staff who had known, and kept, her secret since the beginning.

He bowed to her.

"Your Majesty, a word?" He asked. She inclined her head and he crossed the room to her. She noticed the bristled brown sideburns were beginning to grow as thin as the remaining hair lining the back of his naked scalp. He came to stand beside her and eyed the civilians marching below.

They both stood in silence a moment.

"Your Majesty, if I may be so bold?"

"Yes, Bjolan?"

"You have seemed rather…preoccupied of late with matters beyond the state. This is the third forum you've canceled in as many weeks. The Bard family is still waiting for their orders on how to proceed with building additional ports to the shipping yard. The Borge and Falstad houses have been arguing over that acre of territory near the Gaula River since the rockslide." He folded his gloved hands before him. "I can't help but draw some parallels between your, ah, distraction and the arrival of that exiled prince."

Dear Bjolan. He was too perceptive for his own good. Elsa gave a sharp shake of her head.

"Why did they bring him here? I expressly decreed he was forbidden from ever setting foot in my kingdom again, yet here he is. In the castle. Fed from our kitchens. Housed and kept and for what?" Elsa snapped. "For what?"

"For what?" Bjolan intoned, a velvet addendum to her outburst. He watched her in that retiring way of his; the wall that echoed back and forced her to hear her own words reflected but muted to its unfettered source. Elsa's fury seemed to stall, unflagging in a foundation of justice.

"I didn't ask for him to be here," she said sullenly, "clearly he didn't either. Yet his brothers insisted he would make amends. And they left him. What bothers me is why _he_ is still here."

"It is unorthodox. Do you believe it was done with intent?" Bjolan asked and Elsa nodded at once.

"Something is happening outside of Arendelle. I'm sure of it. The way Prince Ragnvald and Walder left, leaving no hint of when they'll be back to collect their brother, if they mean to collect him at all. Or do they expect me to carry out the sentence I believe he deserves?" Elsa saw her angry reflection in the glass.

"With all due respect, Majesty, why haven't you acted on that impulse?" The royal handler asked softly, more curious than uncertain.

"By all rights I should. He wasn't sorry at all, Bjolan. He said terrible things…about that day on the fjord." She trailed off as she imagined Hans' dark fantasies playing out in her mind—Anna stumbling a moment too late as Hans' sword swung low over Elsa's neck. A frond of ice sheeted beneath her feet and crisply consumed the carpet. Elsa bit her lip as she clasped one hand tightly with the other and glanced at Bjolan. She saw only concern in his eyes. Elsa turned away from him. "By all rights," she murmured, trying to call back the slip in control as she crossed the frozen floor, "but I can't shake this feeling that executing him will somehow martyr him to his people. As if his death would be a declaration of war."

"Several dignitaries saw his attempt that day. I believe you would have the support of the other nations should the Southern Isles muster some outcry against us."

She slumped into the chair she usually read her books in, her face pressed into one hand. "I don't know. What would mother and father do?"

"Call together a council and make an informed decision," he said. "If Hans cannot occupy the dungeons instead of your thoughts, then he must be dealt with."

Elsa glanced at the floor. The thin layer of ice gradually began to dissolve.

Three sharp pounds sounded at her door.

"Elsa! We talked about this—you know how I feel about closed doors!"

Queen Elsa gave a light shake of her head and spared Bjolan a small smile before standing.

"Come in, Anna," she called.

Her little sister burst through the doors.

"I saw the forum let out and I though—" Anna slipped on the remnants of the ice sheet, her light green skirt and red braids flying with her wind-milling arms as she tried to catch herself. Elsa lunged but Bjolan was closer and he caught the scrabbling princess whose smile plunged. "Is everything okay?" She looked to Elsa as she found her feet and thanked the royal handler. Elsa and Bjolan exchanged glances, neither having an answer for her. Anna caught the wordless exchange. "You're still upset about that rotter rotting in our dungeon aren't you?" Anna strode across the ice to stop before her older sister, arms folded. "Aren't you?"

"I have a lot on my mind," Elsa admitted, inhaling a steady breath that sapped the rest of the ice its hold on the floor. Anna looked unconvinced.

"I could give him another what for, you know," Anna raised her fists and pretended to duck an opponent's swings, "I'd be happy to. More than happy to." She thumbed her nose and threw two jabs that brought a smile to Elsa's lips. The queen slipped an arm through her sister's which brought a bright grin to Anna's face and slowed her boxing steps. Their years of separation electrified every touch, every smile, every embrace with joy now that sunlight graced the castle halls once more.

"I believe I owe you a full tea in the garden?" Elsa steered Anna toward the doors, turning only briefly when Bjolan cleared his throat. He stood beside the table that held Elsa's royal raiment. He folded her cloak.

"Shall I arrange a council, Your Majesty?"

"Tomorrow." Elsa said. Anna bounced on her arm as they continued down the hall.

"Council? Oooh! Are we finally putting in that pool I've been talking about?"

* * *

**Author's Note: And here we go. Another long story on my plate, but I find myself enjoying the exploration of Elsa and Hans' relationship, particularly with the latter at the mercy of the former. Power plays are my favorite thing. Not too much Hans in this chapter, but I already have the third outlined and it's a biggun! (As in the plot is finally revealed. XD) **

**Did anyone else notice that royal handler in the movie? That balding guy who saw off the king and queen, dropped the black sheet over their portrait, moved Anna to stand beside Elsa at the coronation bash? That guy is my Bjolan in this story and I sincerely believe he was savvy to Elsa's secret in the film. I can't speak for the rest of the staff, but this guy seems like the loyal kind of royal affairs guy. And someone with that association with the royalty has got to be a bit more free to speak his mind. That's how I figure it anyway.**

**I pulled a lot of Norwegian names in this one-and that Gaula River really is a river in Norway. (Norwegian readers, please feel free to put me in my place if I make any misrepresentations.)**

**Anywho, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please leave a review and keep an eye out for the third!**

**Blackfire 18**


	3. The Council

**A Frigid Reception**

**CHAPTER 3: The Council**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen or any of the characters there within (excepting Prince Ragnvald and Prince Walder who are of my own design), they are property of the Walt Disney Corporation.**

"These apple cakes are absolutely delicious," Anna shoveled another forkful into her mouth. "Try fum, Elfa."

Elsa smiled across the table loaded with decorative chocolates, tree of assorted cakes and pastries, and a full tea service at her sister happily tucking into her treats. A smudge of chocolate marked the bodice of her sister's light green summer dress and Elsa absently straightened her own. The deep blue dress was Elsa's favorite. She stirred a bit of cream into her teacup and gently clinked her spoon on the porcelain lip. The painted lavender crocus had faded to a dull pink, but the service was still fully functional. The old tea service had not seen the light of day since their last family picnic in the courtyard some fifteen years ago and Elsa remembered her father sitting where Anna sat now, asking for the cream once Elsa had finished with it to prepare Anna's cup. That day had been a glorious one, but today was no exception either. The verdant courtyard dappled bright green and deep gray in its shadows; late blooming flowers still wore their colorful blue and yellow skirts. The breeze that serenaded their rustling leaves held the promise of autumn in its breath.

Elsa raised cup and saucer to her lips.

"I'm afraid to get my hands anywhere near that side of the table."

"Then don't order stuff that tastes so good next time," Anna comically rolled her eyes to Elsa's laugh and stuffed the last bit of the sweet cinnamon-layered cake into her mouth, cutting herself another piece of lemon cake. She sliced a piece of the apple for Elsa and handed the plate to her older sister. "This is so much fun! I wish we would do it more often."

Elsa hummed an agreement and sipped at her tea. The cream made it thick and sweet and the sunlight coaxed her into a relaxing daze as Anna continued.

"But I know you're running the kingdom and all, how is that going, by the way?"

Elsa glanced over the rim of her cup at Anna. Her little sister tried hard to sound nonchalant, but the concern bled through at the edges of her eyes and subtle hitch of her tone. No doubt prompted by the ice she had seen in the queen's chambers.

"It's fine," Elsa said, setting her cup and saucer on the table and trying not to picture the stacks of work weighing the desk of her bureau.

"Is it?" Anna pressed. Elsa speared a bit of the apple cake and chewed with convenient leisure. "I kind of hate to say it but, you've been sort of—well, you haven't been yourself these last few weeks."

"How so?" Elsa said between bites.

"I don't know, things are like…closed up again."

"The gates are unlocked, the doors and windows are open, I've seen to the citizens every week."

"I don't mean the doors, Elsa, I mean you."

Their eyes met.

"I don't know what you're on about," Elsa said dismissively and tried to lighten the mood their conversation had taken. "You're right, the apple cake is good."

"It's because he's here, isn't it?"

Elsa shut her eyes, the cake ashen on her tongue. She calmly set down her fork and blotted the corner of her lips with a lace napkin. She returned to her tea to wash out the lump in her throat.

"He couldn't be further from my mind."

Anna snorted. "Please, Elsa. The guy who tried to kill us is in our basement. I've been thinking about it every day. And if I have, then you have twice over."

Elsa sat with the teacup half raised.

Anna's eyebrows rose in the silence.

"What are you going to do with him?"

Elsa recovered herself and drank. "That's what the Council is for."

"Yeah, okay, but you're still the one who has to decide. You have to have some idea already."

Elsa found herself irritated by the truth to her sister's statements.

"And what do you suggest?" she demanded. "That I banish him again? Hang him? Ship him back to the Southern Isles when his brothers so deliberately left him here?" Anna sat back in her chair as Elsa's voice grew in strength. "He left you to freeze to death in the castle and would have beheaded me so I'm right to behead him, am I? Am I?"

"Sure."

Both royals started and spun in their seats to spot Olaf standing on the far side of the table beneath his little flurry cloud. A bright smile spread over his packed-snow face as he glanced between both young women.

"Olaf, I didn't see you there," Elsa breathed, setting down her tea which had solidified.

"Fair's fair," Olaf rolled his shoulders, "except it really won't be because he didn't actually behead either of you and he'd be _geeck!_" Olaf popped his head from his shoulders and propped it with both branch arms, spying all the sweets on the table. "OH, tea! I've always wanted to try tea! I've heard chamomile is supposed to be the absolute best."

Both young women gaped at the snowman as he fixed himself a cup and brought it to his mouth. Elsa snapped out of her shock and snatched the teacup from him.

"Don't drink that, Olaf," she chastised, relieved and horrified for the distraction. His face fell as he watched Elsa set his steaming cup as far from him as possible. He perked up again at the sight of the chocolates. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Since Lady Fiske's hairdo. It does look a lot like a beehive, doesn't it?" he said around a smear of chocolate. Elsa turned and locked gazes with Anna, both muted by the intrusion a moment. Anna shook her head without breaking eye contact.

"I'm just worried about you," Anna said.

"It's not your concern." Elsa placed the cloth napkin from her lap on the table and stood. Anna jumped to her feet so quickly she struck the table and every item on it clattered.

"Yes it is. Don't you shut me out on this."

"I have to prepare for the Council." Elsa said and began to walk toward the castle, Anna following.

"Let me help you."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I already know your feelings on the matter."

"No you don't! I haven't said anything to you about Hans since he's been here! What I think or how I feel about it all. Nothing!" Anna stepped in front of Elsa so the queen stopped abruptly. "And you haven't asked."

Elsa worked hard to keep the roiling turbulence within her calmed, struck again by the truth to her little sister's words.

"As you said, it's my decision and I will see to it." Elsa said evenly and stepped around her sister, hand reaching for the door to the foyer.

"He said you'd be too afraid to deal with him."

A cold stone settled in Elsa's stomach as she froze before the door. She turned back to her sister who's expression suggested she had seen a ghost.

"_You saw him?_" Elsa whispered.

"It was only for a minute, just to see if he was sorry." Anna said reasonably. She had seen the dishonored prince escorted to the dungeons and her sister's conference with the three Southern Isles royals—and heard nothing of the exchange since. Her blue eyes flickered up as the sky darkened with gray clouds, casting shadows over the queen's face. A disturbing edge lit the edges of Elsa's eyes and when she spoke it was full of dark presence.

"Stay away from him, Anna. Do you hear me?" Olaf hid behind Anna's skirts. "I forbid you from speaking to him ever again."

Anna's mouth hung open as Queen Elsa turned and entered the castle, leaving her sister and snowman mute and wide-eyed in the courtyard. A snowflake kissed Anna's cheek and melted. She looked up. A fine dust of snow drifted from the clouds overhead. She felt Olaf step around her skirts and peer up with her. She forced a smile for him and gestured at the weather.

"She sure is angry with me, huh?"

Olaf shook his head.

"Not angry. Scared."

Anna's brow knit as she looked back to the closed door.

"Elsa."

* * *

"Nothing but a scheming weasel that one."

"He deserves a swift chop to the neck!"

"Yes, after what he tried to do to you and the princess, Your Highness."

Elsa sat at the head of the table in the council chamber, her hands folded before her mouth as she listened to her staff, handlers, and a handful of citizens give their recount of what they saw happen on the fjord that day. The meeting started later than she liked as the guards took more time than expected to gather witnesses. The sun had already begun to set when the first naysayer spoke. Some stories were harder to hear than others as they retold their version of events. One man who had borne witness described Elsa's bereavement so vividly that she was transported back to her grief on the ice and she had to fight the prickle of her eyes.

Perhaps this had been a mistake.

Every speaker, be them man or woman, seemed to agree that Prince Hans' conspiratorial and underhanded foul play was deserving only of the block. And some part of Elsa viciously agreed with their sentiments. What he had done to Anna—the patient, collected manner in which he doused the fireplace and sequestered her sister made Elsa's heart burn with hatred as Anna retold it—and every day after. But some other part of her, some dimension she did not understand, could not bring herself to meter out the justice everyone sanctioned. Though not out of pity, she was almost certain, or some false hope he would be sincere in his contrition. Perhaps it was some fear she would become the same monster Hans himself had warned her of; one who could only find the death of her enemies to solve her tribulations. Olaf's words in the courtyard buzzed in her mind. _Fair's fair, except it wouldn't be fair._ Did premeditated murder beget murder in return? Did she judge a man by his actions or the desires of his heart?

_Both matched in this case_, Elsa thought darkly and shut her eyes. She was aware she had stopped listening to the rather one-sided debate, but she had already heard, and thought of, all the arguments presented. What she had yet to hear was anyone on the prince's side—if any such person existed.

Her father had always told her to be impartial; to gather evidence of both sides of a case and only then make an informed decision she would be able to stand by and more importantly, live with. A life taken could not be returned. She and the king would enter such mock debates every month or so and some of the trials' outcomes still itched beneath her skin as her father unveiled a bit of evidence she had not thought to explore. The debates ebbed when one pretend death sentence gone awry enclosed Elsa's room in ice.

Elsa still could not shake the feeling that something was happening outside of Arendelle and, however fanciful, the disloyal prince was involved. But neither could she ignore the indirect effect he had had on the kingdom through its queen's preoccupation.

He had to be dealt with.

She breathed and remembered her father.

"Is there anyone here who can speak to Hans' good intentions?" Queen Elsa cut across one of her staff and the council chamber fell silent. Eyes flitted to other eyes down the room and back again. No one spoke. "Find someone who can."

The shock was palpable as two guards shuffled out to find some citizen who could address the queen's command. Elsa brooded in the silence, her eyes staring straight ahead but seeing every uncertain gaze turned her way.

"Your Majesty?" A small voice said from the back of the chamber. Elsa straightened as all peered to put the speaker into view. "I-I might have something to say on his behalf."

Elsa motioned and the crowd parted and regrouped to push the farmer's wife and child to the fore. Her eyes were wide and she licked her lips as she scrabbled to loose the ribbon holding the hat to her head. The little brown-haired girl openly gawked at her queen.

"Yes?" Elsa prompted.

"Well, ah," she coughed and cleared her throat, "that is, ah, I heard what everyone was saying about that prince and well, ah, I think, ah…"

The accusing eyes of the room pinned to her, she lost her train of thought. Elsa stood and the intensity of the chamber rolled back to her like a wave.

"Tell me, please, any reason this man should not be put to death."

The farmer's wife removed her bonnet and ran a hand through her hair.

"Your Majesty, while you were, ah…gone…" she nervously looked elsewhere and Elsa felt a stab of guilt for her fleeing the township but did not let it show, "…you and Princess Anna. Prince Hans was left in charge of Arendelle. And, ah, he opened up the doors of the castle to us common folk." The silence in the room was complete. "He donated firewood and handed out blankets and cloaks for those in need. He ordered a lot of them dignitary folk to offload their cargo, since it t'weren't helpin' no one on the water, and organized a meal line for hot food and drink in the banquet hall. My daughter, y'see, got very sick in the cold, shaking and coughing all over." The girl still shook now with every eye on her. "He came up to her and carried her into the castle. Moved through the crowd and set her down right by the hearth with a cup of glogg."

The farmer's wife patted her daughters head.

"He saved my life!" The little girl burst and, losing her nerve, buried her face in her mother's skirts. There was a silent exchange of glances all around the chamber. Elsa's gaze fixed back on the farmer's wife.

"A lot of us folk stayed warm in the castle during the storm. He didn't tell any one of us to up and leave, we were welcome to stay. He…He made a fine leader in your absence. Your Majesty."

The farmer's wife pressed her daughter to her abdomen with both hands. Every unblinking eye turned toward the queen. Silence reigned.

Elsa inhaled and every body in the room straightened.

"I've heard enough." Queen Elsa raised the fingers of one hand and her guards ushered the townsfolk out of the chamber. The royal staff and handlers were dismissed back to their duties, casting furtive glances back at their monarch to gauge what her ultimate decision would be.

Would the handsome royal guilty of treason live or die?

The young queen strode from the chamber and made for the castle dungeons.

* * *

Hans slumped against the wall, wincing at the soreness in his wrists from the chafing iron and hundredth yank of the clinking chain as it slipped over his leg. He readjusted his position but knew his discomfort was inevitable sitting, lying, or standing.

He needed a shave and a bath. He wrinkled his nose. The bitter gruel he stomached for dinner stank of rotted onion and mixed in the air with his own personal cocktail of unwashed odors. The sweat-stained patches of his clothes reeked of him and his chin scruff continually scraped at his chest when he fell asleep sitting up. Two weeks of growth there. He had kept track of the days with strands of hair he piled in one corner. He scratched a line in the wall with the chain whenever a royal came to visit and three inconspicuous tallies hung a pretty picture.

It had been cold at night and any request from his surly prison keep earned him a sock to the stomach. He learned to stop asking.

Hans sighed and settled back into the unforgiving wall, tired and bored. There was only so much planning to be done when he received no visitors. He had had a rather lively exchange with Anna that brought a smile to his face even now, but the rest was in her hands.

Hans yawned and shut his eyes.

Two clinks sounded at his window. Hans sat up abruptly, head turned toward the glass. He strained to listen. Two pebbles struck the glass again.

A wicked grin splayed Han's lips.

"Two days it is."

* * *

**Author's Note: Yep. Frozen came out today (er, yesterday) and I bought and viewed. Again. I enjoy this movie too much and it's just SO beautifully animated. GAH! I was inspired to jump back on this fanfiction! I've got the major points plotted out in my head (mostly) it's just figuring out how to get there. I found myself plotting out this story WHILE I was watching the film. Oops. It's going to be an adventure either way!**

**Olaf in this, haha! I was actually a bit squeamish about writing him. I don't do comedy. But I felt his raw optimism would even out his raw honesty-and his unusual anatomy that allows me to illustrate horrible, horrible things. Here I thought the tea party scene would fly, but so much drama! Wow! The Council bit actually went much faster than I thought it would and dear Hans, how I've missed writing him. Uncertain about him still? Did I slash the redemption of that farmer's girl story to ribbons with the last line?**

**And as I said it would in the A/N of chapter 2, the plot thickens! Two days indeed...**

**Blackfire 18**


End file.
